Their Morning Routine
by quintessentially-literary
Summary: Imogen and Constance enjoy the benefits of their relationship, one in particular. Femslash, don't like it, don't read and don't flame. T for mature ish  themes


**Their Morning Routine**

**Disclaimer: Characters are the creation of Jill Murphy**

**Summary: Imogen and Constance enjoy the benefits of their relationship, one in particular. Again un-beta-d so mistakes are mine. First in a series of oneshot ideas, Imogen and Constance in the beginning(ish) of their relationship, reviews are welcome good and bad though no flames please (y) Thanks ****~ Q**

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Despite being a teacher, early mornings were just as capable of causing muttered expletives for Imogen as they were for her pupils. The only up side to it all was that she woke up to her favourite sight as eyelids fluttered open to reveal depthless brown eyes which once they caught her own took on a happy gleam.

"Good morning," she whispered a smile spread across her lips catching Imogen's breath. Brown eyes shimmered beneath the sleep and captivated her even more as they closed before soft lips gently caressed her own. Both were unwilling to break the kiss and groaned when Imogen's alarm sounded breaking the moment.

"Imogen, I really _really_ hate that alarm," came the muffled moaning of her companion as she buried her head in her pillow. Imogen laughed at the sight and quickly moved to lie atop her lover and press light kisses to the back of her neck breathing in her scent and the lightness it caused in her chest.

"No you don't otherwise you'd have to explain to Miss Cackle just why we were late to chaperone the girls, though I would love to see the look on hers and Miss Bat's face, 'excuse us Miss Cackle I just couldn't resist having my wicked way with Miss Drill this morning she is just far too irresistible for me," giggled Imogen who startled as Constance rolled over and soon found herself faced with a very mischievous gleam.

"You think I can't resist you?"

"Of course you can't," she loved this side of their relationship, they were as professional as ever in front of their colleagues and the pupils but in the privacy of what had soon become their quarters each were able to let their guard down. It was something Imogen would never fail to be amazed at and honoured by as she was sure she was the only one who ever saw this side of such an incredible woman.

"Well _Miss Drill_ let me assure you that I am perfectly," she leant closer to her so that their breath intermingled, "capable of resisting you," she kissed the tip of her nose and with a smirk she rose from the bed and sauntered into the bathroom. Imogen let out a huff as she heard the water start knowing full well that a naked Constance was beyond the door daring her to skip her morning run and join her. Well two could play at that game and with a frustrated sigh she dressed for her run grinning to herself as she decided to pass on a vest over her sports bra considering the weather they'd been having of late.

As she was finishing pulling on her shorts Constance walked in dressed in naught but a towel as she pulled her hair into an elaborate braid which would then be twisted into her customary bun. She used to be puzzled by her choice of style and had asked her lover why she chose such a painful way of having her hair. She was surprised by her response, "Imogen I am a Potions Teacher and with hair like mine trust me there are hundreds of ways I could end up in trouble with it, hence the bun – besides you do so seem to love taking it out at the end of the day."

They'd spent the rest of that evening 'discussing' that idea much to their enjoyment and now Imogen found herself become mesmerised by Constance's actions each morning, the way she'd perfected her movements made them seem so – _sensual_. Though recently she couldn't help but see everything Constance did that way.

Shaking her head she moved behind her at the vanity and leant down to brush a soft kiss at the nape of her neck sending a shiver down her spine. Smiling back at her through the mirror with a twinkle in her eyes she held her gaze before leaving for her morning run and laughed when she heard Constance groan, "Damn woman!" having noted how her eyes had glazed over when she'd straightened up, sports bra and shorts 2 – Constance 1.

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Despite having been partly beaten at her own game Constance couldn't stop the smile that ghosted across her lips. She didn't think it were possible for her to fall more deeply in love with the PE teacher than she already had but every morning proved her wrong. She was amazed at the ease they had with each other and how patient Imogen was with her given her struggles to open up to anyone, even Amelia struggled with her, but Imogen had managed where countless had failed. Cementing herself into her heart until she couldn't imagine a day without her, a shared smile across the staffroom, a meeting in the hallways and most importantly a morning waking up seeing her gorgeous green eyes smiling back at her.

Their morning ritual was a welcome, if unexpected, new aspect to their relationship. Having spent most nights together it seemed ridiculous for them to stay in separate quarters so now Imogen's was mainly used when Constance had a particularly gruelling session of marking to get through, which was often ended by Imogen coming to check on her at an ungodly hour to drag her to bed – not that she minded. Not so long ago she would have scoffed at the idea of her sharing so much of her life and herself with somebody but with Imogen it was as natural as breathing. Admonishing herself at her musings she began to get dressed but found herself pausing yet again as she stared at hers and Imogen's clothes side by side in her wardrobe.

'_Imogen has turned me into a domesticated lovesick girl!' _

"_I don't hear you complaining" _ her other voice chimed back and she had to laugh at herself realising how true it was, she really didn't mind, though if anyone were to ask she'd deny it, '_or turn them into a toad.'_

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Having dressed Constance had started on some left over marking which Imogen had managed to distract her from doing, at least it didn't make her look like she was waiting for her to come back from her run, even if she was looking to the door every few minutes. It was one of her favourite parts of her morning routine – watching Imogen when she came back from her run. She became giddier and giddier as the minutes ticked by, of course she would say that it was for entirely romantic and pure reasons, knowing that her lover was back safe and near to her even though Imogen had pointed out countless times that there were no dangers on her morning run.

What she liked about it most had just presented itself before her as Imogen strolled in chest heaving and sweat making a light sheen across her body. Constance's eyes feasted on her flushed skin and caressed each bead of sweat that slid down her neck into the valley of her breast clearly defined by her tight sports bra. She felt herself grow warm as Imogen purposely stretched in front of the mirror giving Constance a full view of her. She tried to stifle a moan as Imogen bent forward and a smirk graced her features as she caught sight of her lover so obviously leering at her.

"Miss Hardbroom I don't believe your thoughts are entirely on your work at the moment," she waggled her eyebrows as she stretched back upwards pulling her arms above her head highlighting her firm stomach. She gasped as Constance licked her lips and realised she was staring transfixed at the sweat which slid down her torso.

Constance stood quickly moving behind the cause of her current frustrations. She placed kisses along her neck and across her shoulder blades feeling Imogen shake at the contact. She looked at them both in the mirror, marvelling at the contrast her pale skinned hand made against Imogen's slightly tanned torso and more importantly how it tensed as she caressed lower and lower, her eyes daring Imogen to concede to her.

"Miss Cackle is expecting us in an hour," whispered Imogen biting back a moan. Growling Constance spun Imogen around and threw them both onto the bed. Straddling her thighs as she had done earlier in the morning she grasped at the waistband of her shorts.

"Imogen sometimes there are far more important things then chaperoning third years."


End file.
